


Broken

by ChristianHowe, helena_s_renn



Series: Eleven Strings – yksitoista kieltä [3]
Category: Def Leppard, Sonata Arctica
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 07:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12030822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristianHowe/pseuds/ChristianHowe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn
Summary: After Def Leppard's set, Sav and Jani meet again under not-so-happy circumstances when something is literally 'Broken'.





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for some minor medical ick.
> 
> Disclaimer: Not ours, not true; as far as the authors are aware, none of this ever happened.

* * *

_// Make love like a man, I'm a man, that's what I am //_

Joe sang-yelled. Sav supplied his backing vocal, jerking his head, twisting his shoulders and tossing his hair in the same manner as he'd been doing for 19 years. Longer. This song... so not appropriate to a metal festival. The lyric had always made him cringe. "Make love"... yeah, tell that to all the faceless females down in Sodom and Gomorrah, under the rotating stage back in '87, '88. Sav had no illusions whatsoever as to how many of them had attended more concerts over the years, coming up to them with that certain look on their faces that said, "Hey, remember me? I sucked you off! Can I do it again?" Ninety percent of the time he hadn't the slightest recollection and when he did it was often just a fuzzy snapshot remembrance. Being approached like that had lessened over the years, thank god. Sav had grown out of those types of antics, as had most of the band. People changed. People aged.

The next two songs to follow, Promises and Hysteria, were softer textured, more melodic, not really even hard rock. By the time they got through them and on to the hard-edged Let it Rock, Sav feared, they were going to lose the audience's attention. The fists waving in the air had already lessened.

* * *

Jani stood in the front row with his eyes glued to the stage. Def Leppard were good – and obviously quite the contrast to Motörhead who'd been on right before them. His ears were still ringing, however, it wasn't from the volume of the aforementioned band who'd made true on their reputation as if not the loudest band ever, then at least one pretty high up the list. No, he'd got an earful from Tony during the break right before Lemmy and friends had taken the stage. He'd expected this after missing the Meet and Greet, but he was still surprised – shocked, actually – by his bandmate's reaction.

_"You mess up once more and you're out."_

Jani hadn't asked what the others thought. If Tony wanted him out, they'd follow his lead, however reluctantly. It had always been like this. As soon as Tony singled out a member of Sonata with more than his usual grumpiness during a tour, that person's days with them were numbered. Janne, Mikko, they'd cited personal reasons for leaving, but Tony's attitude toward them had always changed before that when they couldn't or wouldn't give 200 per cent to the band. Jani didn't even think Tony did it deliberately, but once the singer had started to became dissatisfied with their dedication to Sonata, he'd made no secret out of it. This kind of atmosphere had then added to the weight Janne and Mikko had already felt and had expedited their leaving.

Right now, Jani knew exactly how that felt. The atmosphere hadn't been comfortable for months, but so far he'd thought he'd just have to get through the shit in his life and that Tony would come around eventually. Although he tried not to think of it, he was aware that sooner or later his refusal to perform his military service or the civilian equivalent would force him into a temporary absence from Sonata. He estimated a year, which was a hell of a long time, but he'd never expected that Tony would really fire him, not over missing a signing session, and especially not as in 'once and forever.'

He'd barely recovered from this shock when, right after Motörhead's set, he'd received the call from Anni that had really pulled out the ground from under his feet... And then Miia...

_No, not going there! Not now!_

Jani ground his teeth and forced himself to focus on the stage again. That outfit Rick was wearing looked ridiculous. Granted, it wasn't as bad as what Tony usually wore on stage, and he had to acknowledge that Rick's choice of a light colour made a lot of sense in this – still! – heat, but Jani didn't think it suited him very well. The girls and women surrounding him clearly disagreed as not only did the singer and guitarists receive the usual screams, but also the bass player. Then again, Make was quite popular with the ladies as well. Very much unlike his own experience as a – temporary and just for fun – bassist at that gig in... where had it been, Bochum? Last year, somewhere in Germany, where he and Henkka had dressed in blue rubbish bags and entered the stage to 'support' Machine Men's set. Jani had played bass and not thought much about the whole thing until he'd seen the pictures on the 'Net the following day. Well, now everybody knew that he wore black underwear...

At least he wasn't wearing his 'vagina' shirt any longer.

* * *

Like he'd anticipated, Promises wasn't very well-received by the crowd, no surprise since it was almost pop. Then he and Rick started the intro to Hysteria, accompanied by a swell of high-pitched screaming. Sav was proud of the song's development from the album version to how they performed it live. And he got so much more range and movement from the 5-string than he ever had from the 4. He also quite liked how he and Joe sang in a round for one part so his voice could be heard individually, but that didn't come till near the end.

During the verse he strutted to the front of the stage to give the screamers the show they were looking for. Dozens of mobiles with their camera lenses pointed right at him... he let them have a field day. Sav pandered to it, locking eyes with one woman after another every couple of seconds, feet braced wide apart and keeping 'rhythm' with his entire body. He wasn't like pelvic-thrusting Steven Tyler, but he got the point across. It was kind of getting to him; maybe he was playing with himself, there in front of 60,000 fans. He was suddenly... in need.

Chorus where he was on his mike, second verse, chorus... then he looked to his right for Steve to come in with his solo and... someone had fucked up his sound. What, wait... Vivian? What the bloody fuck?

They had all – the four of them remaining – been visited by Steve's ghost during the early nineties. It would've been an outright lie to say otherwise. Some riff, or some joke, or one shot too many and he was with them, however fleetingly. Phil had been hit the hardest, Sav could give him that. He didn't like to, because Sav held something no one else did to his knowledge, things best not mentioned. But it happened less and less; Sav hadn't seen or heard from Steve for a few years now during waking hours. Not a whiff of him during their rehearsals. What the fuck was his – Sav's – problem?

If not for muscle memory, he'd have royally screwed the pooch as Viv then Phil recreated... no, just not. Nobody ever would again. Nobody played that soaring, wailing power braced on the side of their knee. Sav's eye began to twitch. He wasn't ready to sing his part; it came out hoarse which was not a good sound for his voice, not at all.

What the fuck were they doing? What was the bloody point? Sav wanted to throw his bass on the stage floor and never touch it again. If they hadn't been on his instrument, his hands would've been shaking, he could feel the jitteriness through the tendons in his wrists and forearms.

The moment ran its course and was over quickly. What a pissy little bitch he was being. Stiff upper lip, Richard Savage.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sav thought he caught a flash of red. The pyro guys must have loaded the wrong flash – theirs were bright whites.

* * *

From where he stood, Jani had a good view of the stage. During the first couple of songs he'd been, no, not envious of the now quite good sound, but his renewed frustration over their own set hadn't sat well with him either. Especially when this may have been his last gig with Sonata. He'd really have to take care to not screw things up again. Maybe he could mend things with Tony once they were back in Finland. Tuska was at the end of the month, Ruisrock a week later...

Actually, all their remaining gigs in this year were in Finland, which meant a lot less strain. Jani was a little more confident now that Tony wouldn't kick him out in the end. He still had to see about his conscription, though... Perkele, he'd just begun to enjoy the music, why couldn't he get these negative thoughts out of his head at least for a little while?

Narrowing his eyes, Jani focused on the guitar players, struggling to remember their names before deciding that they didn't really matter. He didn't find it hard to acknowledge that these guys, whatever their names, could play. Their styles differed a lot from his, but they were not only from a different generation but also from a different genre, so this was to be expected. It wasn't really his music – especially not this song, it wasn't even rock but pop music. Not that he had something against pop music in general, but this one in particular didn't do much for him.

However, although Jani doubted that he'd ever call himself a Def Leppard fan, he'd definitely look into them once he was back home. He didn't know the titles of all of the songs that were played, but the setlist would be on the 'Net soon and he'd find the songs on youtube to figure out which ones he wanted, so that he could buy the according CD's – he wasn't exactly flush with money, but being a professional musician himself he wouldn't illegally download any colleagues' works.

The song they started into now would make it on his shopping list. Jani had heard it before, as well as some of the previous songs; well, one couldn't really escape a band like Def Leppard unless one lived in a cloister. Of this one, he thought he even remembered the name: Hysteria.

Apparently, the audience also liked this one better, and they, mostly women, kept screaming enthusiastically – or, matching the song's title, hysterically, he thought. Jani would have preferred if they'd shut up so he could hear the music, but as he watched the show Rick pulled off, he had to grin: he himself got that kind of reaction, too, and he didn't begrudge the other man the attention.

After the second verse and chorus, something went wrong, though. Jani was pretty sure that most people in the audience hadn't even noticed it, when, for a few seconds, Rick's otherwise solid rhythm lagged a little. He caught himself quickly, but when he started singing a moment later, his voice sounded slightly off. Jani felt a wave of sympathy for the bassist wash over him. Whatever was going on, though, he was in no position to help.

* * *

It was over. It faded. If that ever happened again, it wouldn't be for a long, long time. Sav pulled himself together long enough to sing his, "Closer... Get closer...Closer to me," line the necessary number repetitions. The second that Hysteria's final chord faded, they were playing their arses off again. Planting his feet wide, Sav grinned like a fool when not singing through their youthful homage to sexual experimentation. He could remember writing it, too, 21 years old, in a world that hadn't yet heard of political correctness, complete with the "quit your stallin' and your bitchin'" and "get on your knees"... People still ate that shite up, even birds. Fans they'd lost to the evolving sound in albums three and four still to this day clamoured for a High'n'Dry II, and this was prime material for them.

As he ran back and forth across the stage between one chorus and the next, Sav caught that red flash again. The next chance to move around, he approached the lip of the stage near Phil's mike. People were packed in behind the barrier body to body, most of them near the front banging their heads, waving their fists, dancing, singing along... aye, it was that bloke. Jani. What the hell was he doing at a Def Leppard show, and in the front row yet? Sav didn't know how to feel about that... maybe semi-proud he could sway someone that age, from a metal band, to give them a listen. It could be another professional courtesy thing, or just a way to kill time if he was stuck here due to transportation issues. Both possibilities were contradicted by the fact that he was in the front row. It would have taken a lot of pushing and shoving or sneakiness to get up near the stage. Was he being fanboyed? Maybe Jani had more balls than he'd thought. And wasn't that a conundrum?

Careful not to look anywhere that direction, Save did his signature back-away on sneakered feet and put it out of his mind. His bass solo was up next, the only part of the show that he ever got nervous about. If he was known for anything, it was being solid, being able to reproduce their layered sound on stage. His chops, he had to laugh at that one, weren't going to impress this crowd. He was no shredder, no virtuoso. He and Rick had worked diligently on a solo set-up where they helped each other out – Rick giving him something to roll his developing 'aquatic thunder' over, after which, he provided some background tonality – the extreme low end – for the drummer to go crazy to. He usually dropped off after a minute; Rick was more than capable of handling himself. Tonight it went off with only a couple of dropped notes that Sav hoped no one noticed. Shortly after that, the crowd was roaring its approval for Rick. As it should be.

For the rest of the set, Sav kept mainly to the right side of the stage, and his eyes off far back in the crowd then he wasn't. There were no further hitches, but he was glad when it was over. One show under their belts, how many more to go? He'd already been sweating quite a lot by the time – whatever that was – had happened. By now, he was drenched, sleeveless white waistcoat soaked through. He handed off his bass to his tech as soon as possible and went back out, where the entire band made their final bows.

Overall, he supposed, it had gone alright. They hadn't been booed off the stage; no one had chucked anything more dangerous than knickers at them. Exhaustion set in as they left the backstage area. Long familiar with the post-concert spiral, Sav felt like he had no remaining electrolytes in his body, but yet, adrenaline was still running hot. His sodden shirt was too much, all that salt and damp stuck to his skin. He pulled it off and tossed it at some startled wanna-be groupie, who hugged him in return like it was her only purpose in life. Sav extracted himself to catcalls from his mates before he did something he probably shouldn't. She looked maybe twenty, which probably meant seventeen under the make-up and hairspray. Not gonna happen.

The sudden need for about five shots of vodka flooded his mouth. Vodka? Not usually his drink. It was effective, though – he could say that. Then maybe he could find some fit bird to have it off with. Better than wanking.

* * *

By the time Def Leppard finished their set, Jani had to admit that he hadn't enjoyed a show like this in a long time. He'd always prided himself on having an open mind toward any kind of music, but lately he hadn't felt like listening to anything other than metal, if at all. His overall impression of the band was that of a group of guys that fit together very well – which they should, after playing together for such a long time. A few years, even a few months back, he'd have focused on their technical skill level – which was beyond any doubt – but right now, his attention seemed to be more drawn to the interaction of the members. Fallout from his issues with Sonata.

Now that he saw them, he also recalled a few tidbits a former girlfriend – or fling rather – had told him. She'd been a real fan and couldn't stop rambling about them, not even in bed. Back then, Jani had wondered if he was being used as substitute to fulfil her fantasies of sleeping with one of their guitarists... He hadn't been able to remember their names earlier but now they suddenly returned to his mind: Phil, Steve, Vivian. One of them had died but Jani didn't know which one.

What he did remember was that their drummer had lost his arm in a car accident. It had caused him nightmares for a while, when he'd first heard the story. The guy had found a way to continue playing, but if that would happen to a guitarist... He'd been so scared for a while that he'd refused to ride with Risto on his motorbike for fear of an accident. Funny enough that he hadn't got to listen to their music much, but as great as the sex had been, he and Maija hadn't been together long.

And that brought him back to...

_"Jani, we need to talk."_

These words never meant anything good, and today had been no exception. He'd still been reeling from Tony's threat to give him the boot when Anni had called during the break between Motörhead's and Def Leppard's sets. He'd barely had time to say 'hi' to her when she'd already asked if he was cheating on her. He'd been stunned but hadn't denied it once his tongue started working again, upon which she'd told him that it was over between them. She wouldn't kick him out of the flat they shared but announced that one of them should move out, details to be discussed when he'd returned home. The entire call had lasted less than three minutes.

And that hadn't been the end of it: ten minutes later, he'd received what could only be described as a 'follow-up' call by Miia. Anni had called her new BFF and told her about the split with him. Apparently, Anni hadn't known that it was Miia Jani was cheating with, but as a good friend – to Anni, not to him – Miia had admitted that it was her. Of course, she could not be with Jani any longer, surely he could understand that.

He understood. And felt numb. It was in that moment that Def Leppard had entered the stage and provided a welcome distraction. Now that their set had ended, so had the distraction. Vittu, he needed a drink!

* * *

The party was in full swing. Once Whitesnake's set was over, the stadium transformed into an all-in-one pub crawl, movable feast and metal bar for upwards of 10,000 bodies. The amount of people had thinned, but the enthusiasm of those left was undeniable. The music was even louder than when the bands were on stage.

Second wind kicked in, Sav lost himself to the carnival atmosphere. These Italians sure could throw a party, he'd give them that. The booze flowed freely, and with it so did laughter. He forgot about anything that had bothered him earlier in the day and became his affable self again. They, security, let a few fans into the area otherwise reserved for the bands and crew, who were free to come and go at will, and at their own risk, they were strongly cautioned. Sav wasn't really worried. Drink in hand, dressed in the glossy leather trousers he'd eschewed earlier in the day – though it was still hot as balls – black boots, a worn-thin tee with the sleeves ripped off, he had gone all the way around the stadium area just to people-watch. So many young adults, most having a blast. He had been asked for a few autographs, even to dance; no one said one rude word or looked at him oddly.

Now back at the restricted section, he looked for his bandmates among what was still close to a thousand people. He thought he saw Viv, but by the time he weaved his way in that direction, stopping for a few words here and there, the guitarist was nowhere to be spotted. They hadn't set up any formal arrangement before being dropped off in regard to how to get back to their hotel. He had his phone on him, of course. No one had called or texted yet. Getting there shouldn't be a problem, it was always just nicer to be with someone.

Speaking of which, he hadn't tried to pull. Nothing was stopping him. There were hundreds of women around, everything from Nordic blonds to the swarthier locals to any variety of what to him was exotic. So far, none of them felt right, though a couple of bold ones, just in the last ten minutes, had put hands on his chest and arms, sampling him, he kind of thought, no different than he might do if he was really in the mood. Well, he was; it had been a while.

Off to one side, near the spot he'd done the same thing earlier, was an informal smoking area. He headed over. Smoking was a sure means to find someone to chat up.

....

Two fags later, pleasantly buzzed, Sav decided he'd call it a night after all. He wasn't 27 anymore, and they had 80 tour dates stretched in front of them over the next five months. If the other band members had all left already, it was quite likely they'd gone together on the bus. If that was the case, strange that they'd leave him behind without a word. Pulling out his phone again, Sav sent a group text.

He waited by the wall for a few minutes, and smoked the last cigarette in his pack. There were more in his room back at the hotel. He had been trying to cut down but it wasn't easy. Supposedly nicotine was as addictive as heroin and he'd been a smoker for 30 years. Was that really possible? He supposed it was. During his stint with the Blades, he'd been down to very little thanks to the training regimen, only to resume when he decided that being a rock star was the way to go. One thing he knew for sure was that he didn't want it to affect his voice.

Well, no one was answering his texts. Sav made up his mind: time to jet. He started out through the corridor in the direction he thought led to the main entrance. In the morning, they'd been dropped off at one of the inconspicuous side doors, probably to keep the chaos from fans to a minimum. Whatever, he'd walk around the outside of the grounds if necessary. There had to be taxis available with so many visitors in Milan for the festival.

* * *

Jani suddenly became aware of how tired he was. Not that it was late, he was used to going to sleep when 'normal' people would start their day, but he'd got up at eight thirty today and they had an early flight the next morning. Time to call it a day, then.

Apparently, the others had already come to the same conclusion earlier: when Jani reached the place where their bus was supposed to be, he found it gone. Well, no problem, he'd call a taxi to return him to the hotel.

A moment later, he cursed: His phone was gone. After rummaging through his backpack without success, he remembered that he'd put it in his jeans pocket after Miia's call. It must have slipped out. There was no way he'd find it in the pit, and if someone else found it, he didn't think that'd happen before the morning. If it happened at all, that was. If not, he was in trouble as he couldn't remember the name of the hotel. He'd been hammered when they'd checked in and too hungover to notice in the morning. It meant that having someone call a taxi for him wouldn't help because he didn't know where to go. Trial and error wasn't an option either as there were too many hotels, Milan was a fucking big city in that respect. Furthermore, without his phone, he couldn't call the others to ask where they were lodged. Even if he could borrow a phone from someone, he couldn't call them because he hadn't memorised any of their numbers, and obviously, the phone numbers of Sonata Arctica members weren't listed. Anni's number would be listed, though, and she had the numbers of the other Sonata. He wasn't too keen on speaking to her but she wouldn't let him down. Before making that call, he needed another drink, though.

The backstage area was milling with people now, it was much more crowded than it had been in the morning after Sonata's gig. Nobody paid him much attention, which he was grateful for. Talking with fans was okay as long as other Sonata were there, too, and he was drunk enough. Tonight, though, wasn't the time for it, and so he was relieved to find that most fans didn't look like they belonged to the metal scene and didn't recognise him.

On his way to the 'Ristorante', Jani hadn't got far when a couple of giggling blondes, obviously drunk, bumped into him and he lost his footing. Crashing to the ground, he made to get up again when his eyes fell onto his left hand and he frowned. He didn't feel a thing but the pinkie was standing at an awkward angle and had somehow developed an additional joint.

Jani wasn't drunk enough to hallucinate, but it nevertheless took his brain a moment to catch up with what he was seeing. Once he understood, his eyes widened in shock.

This couldn't be happening!

_This wasn't happening!_

* * *

It was darker inside the halls that led – presumably – to an exit. If he'd been able to, Sav would have put his shades over his eyes simply so there'd be less likelihood of being stopped, but it wasn't a possibility. A lane made by human bodies flowed in the direction he had decided on and Sav joined the current. He walked side by side with a bloke who had more piercings on his face than Sav had fingers and toes on one side, a pair of stereotypical drunk giggling blonds on the other. Walked, and walked. The hall seemed endless. Why the hell had no one, not even Joe who could turn into a mother hen on occasion, thought to ring him? Had past tour behaviour led them to believe he'd be shagging the night away first thing? It was odd that he wasn't doing just that, all things considered. Definitely odd.

Near a long row of glass doors he assumed was the front, the birds to his left changed direction. They lurched away from him and cut across into the flow of people headed back into the stadium, squeals of delight issuing from their black-painted lips. They made straight for somebody Sav couldn't see clearly. In fact, he seemed to be having a tough time focusing. It was definitely a bloke. "Poor son of a bitch," Sav muttered to himself.

That's when the squealing stopped and the cursing began. Sav tried to look back but couldn't spot the girls or whoever they'd glomped. For some reason, he felt... worried and looked again. Sprawled on the floor with the two over-excited fans was... Jani?

Feeling himself double-take, Sav manoeuvred his way to the flame-haired guitarist, who was staring at his own hand. Something looked off about it. "Hey... are you alright?" he asked. Jani didn't hear him; the celebratory music was currently a strange cross-over of industrial and Celtic, speeded up and drop-tuned. Not metal at all. Club music, but like none he'd ever heard. Loud as fuck.

The girls didn't stick around; both scarpered away with nervous backward glances. "Jani?"

No response. Looked like he'd have to yell to make himself heard. "Jani!"

* * *

Through the noise in the background Jani thought he heard his name being called. Not that he expected anyone here to know him, but when he looked up he noticed that he'd been wrong. There, right before him, stood Rick. Judging from the slightly worried look in the bassist's eyes, Jani guessed that he'd called out his name before.

"Yeah, I'm good," he hurried to assure him. "Got knocked over, but everything's fine." He got back on his feet, feeling a little dizzier than he should – he wasn't that drunk – but not bad enough to make him stay sitting on the floor.

"Hey, I watched your set," Jani volunteered when Rick continued to look at him as if something was amiss. "Not my usual fare, I'm more into metal, but, job well done. After the rundown you gave me of your rig it was nice to see it in action. And hear it, of course. Liked your instruments as well. Custom, of course. And you even had a solo." He smiled, if a little shyly.

More than once, he and Tony had tried to offer Make a solo spot, but Sonata's bassist had always declined. It had been hard enough to get him to move around a little on stage; Make preferred to remain in the background. Then, after a gig, he tended to be quite the ladies' man, which one wouldn't think if one saw him playing – the exact opposite of Jani, who put up a hell of a show on stage and couldn't get his mouth open afterward, or before, for that matter.

It was different with Rick now because he'd already met the man earlier, and of course because Rick was a fellow musician. As earlier, Jani didn't want the conversation to end, but surely Rick must have other plans. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask... He gathered up his courage. "Feel like a beer or something?"

* * *

What was up with this bloke? Jani proclaimed himself "good" and got to his feet. From that angle, Sav saw how the lad held his left hand – his fret hand, potentially a total disaster to his career – protectively against his body. From what little he could see of the limb itself, his pinkie finger needed to be splinted at the very least – by a doctor, not half-trained arena emergency staff. If he was lucky, there'd be no lasting damage but he'd need to take care of it right away.

Was this 'show no pain' thing some Finnish standard of manhood? If it had been him, Sav was sure, breaking any appendage, even his pinkie, would be followed by rabid swearing and hissing or worse. Instead, Jani kept talking as if nothing had happened, complimented Def Leppard's show, even asked him to go have a beer. He hadn't been anywhere near so outgoing earlier. Being blitzed out of one's mind could slow the body's initial reaction to trauma. That wasn't it, though. Jani seemed a bit drunk but no more. He must be in shock.

"Sorry, but I think you should go to the A&E." Sav bypassed replying to the pleasantries and the offer to get a pint. It was suddenly too hot and close in here; his temples pounded dangerously once, then again. It was not only for Jani's benefit when he made up his mind and said, "Come on... let's get outside." There, he could have a better look at it, try to help the lad come to terms with the fact that he needed to be treated – quickly – or risk losing the functionality of his pinkie for good.

When Jani blinked at him but otherwise didn't move, Sav gave a snort through his nose and stepped closer, ready to guide him in the right direction. Between falling and the strange weightless sensation of the body that immediately followed an injury, he assumed Jani had lost his sense of direction, if he'd possessed it in the first place.

* * *

Rick's eyes were blue, just as Jani had thought earlier when he couldn't see them very well in the dim room. The expression in them was clearly one of worry, which made Jani frown? Why would Rick be worried? And then he advised that Jani should go to the A&E... He followed Rick's eyes to his left hand. So, yes, his finger was looking a bit odd, but if it was anything serious it would hurt more, right? He'd get some ice to put on it when they went for a beer. Or when he went for a beer should Rick not want to join him...

He was feeling a little light-headed and when Rick recommended they go outside, it took Jani a moment to process the suggestion. By the time his brain came to agree that this was actually a good idea, Rick was stepping closer – and then reality suddenly hit him.

It was like a punch to the gut, the kind that left one without breath so that one couldn't even curse. At the same time, he felt the waves of pain, real pain, not only from his finger, but his entire hand was throbbing in agony. This was bad. He'd be kicked out of Sonata if he couldn't perform at Tuska! Or... slowly, the true meaning of the injury began to dawn on him. He could probably forget about playing guitar for weeks, if not months – or forever!

"I... I..." Scared shitless by the potentially disastrous consequences of his fall, Jani could barely speak. And since when had his knees turned into jelly? "That... is probably... a good idea," he finally managed.

Shit, he needed to keep it together. Jani wasn't even sure in which direction 'outside' was. He'd follow Rick, but the guy shouldn't be babysitting him! He must be tired from the gig, and surely had better things to do!

"I'm sorry for the trouble..."

* * *

Sav could see in Jani's face down to the millisecond when the pain hit. His eyes – blue? – squinched shut, his mouth contorted into a grimace, the cords in his neck popped out. He swayed on his feet, shock of red hair messy from the fall swinging out; it looked like his knees were about to give way. Hesitating for a second, Sav pushed the young bloke two steps backward as gently as he could, so that Jani could lean against the wall for support. Startled eyes found his; the kid actually apologised for the trouble.

"It's no trouble... you need any help walking?"

This was really a departure. Women liked to touch him, some were bloody handsy; occasionally, Sav returned the favour. This wasn't that – Sav was helping an injured, and now also terrified, contemporary. He didn't want to sound like a snob even to himself with this but... he hadn't gone out of his way to actively help another person – a relative stranger – beyond his own sphere in a long time. People catered to him, hell the most obsequious of them bowed and scraped and would probably lick his arsehole if he wanted, just to say he'd bought something in their shop or ate at their establishment. Sure, Sav would help the roadies load equipment if they were on a tight schedule, and he was always willing to lend an ear if someone needed it. It had been half his lifetime though since he'd stopped roadside to help fix a puncture or that sort of thing.

Jani appeared to be beyond answering. "C'mon," Sav repeated, managing to get Jani's uninjured arm around his shoulders and together, if clumsily, they made it outside. If for some reason they were photographed, people would just think they were stumbling around drunk together, probably. The air was slightly cooler once they cleared the doors, and there was plenty of light from the enormous marquee, streetlights, and traffic.

"Sit down here." A knee-high wall bordered the sidewalk next to the street. Sav headed for it, lowered Jani onto it, then himself, making sure to leave a suitable amount of distance between them. "Alright, let's see it then."

Out of nowhere, that same phrase in another voice rushed into his mind. Sav had to look away for a moment. He cleared his throat. "Your hand," he qualified. "I'll be careful."

* * *

Rick carefully pushed him against the nearest wall and Jani was grateful for the support. At least he wouldn't collapse in public. Although he was shaking and his hand now really hurt like hell, he felt a little better. He did, however, disagree with Rick when the other told him that it was no trouble. Jani wasn't stupid. But if it meant that Rick would stay with him a little longer, Jani wouldn't complain. Right now, he wasn't sure if he could deal with this on his own.

He wanted to thank Rick, then answer to the question as to whether he needed help walking, the answer being that he honestly didn't know, but he suddenly found it difficult to breathe and had to concentrate on that.

Unlike Jani, who felt completely helpless, Rick seemed to know what to do. The bassist half-guided, half-carried him to some place outside and made him sit down. It was cooler here and Jani could breathe a little easier, but the cooler air also made him shiver when he broke into a cold sweat. A part of his brain slowly came back online and told him that he must be in shock or something, at least that would explain why he was feeling so feeble.

Then Rick asked to see his hand. Jani swallowed, hard. He didn't want to see it himself. Nor did he want to show it to anyone else. He trusted Rick, the man was a musician, too, so he'd know what Jani was going through, but... Rick prompted again, gently, promising to be careful.

"I..." Jani began but he didn't really know what to say. There was but one thing to do. He closed his eyes and held out the injured limb.

"Please tell me it's nothing."

* * *

It was some minutes before Jani closed his eyes and held out his hand. It was shaking, and Sav gripped him just above the wrist using both hands. Jani's skin was clammy. Sav could feel his pulse pounding through the raised veins under his fingers. He needed to calm down. The faster the heart pumped and the blood flowed, the worse his finger would swell.

It wasn't good. There was a complete fracture between two of the joints, and possibly another dislocation, which sent a bolt of sympathetic pain – not real, more like vertigo – through Sav's body. The affected finger had already begun to puff up and bruise. It needed ice to keep the swelling down, and to be elevated.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that." Sav would not lie. Jani could not ignore this, or he might not be able to play again, not the sort of music he played now. "Jani. It's not going to go away on its own... you need to be seen as soon as possible. I... I can go with you." He surprised even himself by offering. If not him, though, who would? His band should be the ones to handle it really – where were they? "Did you want to call someone...?"

Just then his mobile buzzed in his pocket. Carefully removing his hands from Jani's arm, he pulled his mobile out. Joe, saying they were about to leave. Where the hell had they been earlier, then? Sav didn't pose the question on his return text – he could hear about it later. Here, now, he had to make the decision whether to stay with Jani and get him to an A&E or take off. Somehow, he doubted the flighty young man would see to his injury. If that break wasn't set soon it would heal all wrong. Sav paused, then texted back that he'd find his own way 'home'. A second later he got a line of emojis including a shit-eating grin, a heart and a kissy face, which he didn't bother to reply to.

Jani hadn't said anything. Was the shock so profound he had gone catatonic?

* * *

He hadn't been kidding himself. Jani wasn't surprised when Rick didn't tell him that it was nothing. For a moment, his mind balked. Although he'd expected this, Rick wasn't a doctor. It could still be just a painful but minor injury. Deep inside, however, he knew the truth. This was as bad as his first impression, before he could take his eyes off his hand, had suggested. He didn't like Rick's diagnosis but he appreciated the honesty.

What did surprise him a second later, though, was that Rick actually offered to go with him, to a hospital, wherever. His eyes widened, but before he could tell his good Samaritan that it was nice of him to offer but Rick shouldn't waste his evening that way, Rick asked if Jani wanted to call someone.

Yes, that was a better solution. Jani would have the festival organisers call him a taxi and direct him to a hospital. Rick was probably right in so far that he shouldn't wait. He made to reply but got interrupted when Rick's phone rang with an incoming text message.

Waiting while Rick texted back, Jani felt drained as the events of the day played back in his head. There wasn't only the fall but also the botched set as well as both Anni and Miia breaking up with him. And then the fight with Tony – even if he hadn't given up hope yet that he might not be kicked out of the band for having a stupid accident that wasn't even his fault... Only, Tony wouldn't believe him. Oh, he'd believe that it had been an accident, but he'd still blame it on Jani for being drunk and careless, for not returning to the hotel with them, for... whatever.

Drenched in cold sweat as he was, he began to shiver. It was ironic that he could suddenly feel so cold on such a hot day. Must be the shock, he told himself. Right then, he'd better get going. Rick finished texting and Jani cleared his throat.

"I'd call someone," he said, "but I lost my phone. Could you maybe find one of the security staff or someone? They can send for a taxi, so I won't have to bother you any longer." He paused. "I really appreciate your help."

* * *

"Could do." Now that reality seemed to be setting in, Jani at last spoke up, only to apologise – again – for being a bother. It was if he had concluded on his own that Sav had better things to do with his time. No, he didn't. 'Stubborn Yorkshireman' kicked in. Sav shifted over a bit, out of Jani's space, and looked him in the eye.

"Won't be a bother, though. I was just leaving, myself. Done for the night, we old duffers have early bedtimes." He flashed a grin and looked down, wincing at the mangled finger in his line of sight. "Look mate, if you'd rather be on your own, I'll fuck off, and I'll see about a taxi for you... and myself, because that," he held up his phone, "was my band, who I just told to leave without me, so I'll need one, too. I think someone should go with you. Just in case, y'know? To make sure you're not left sitting in some waiting room all night."

Medical staff in any country would follow triage protocol, and would visually diagnose a broken finger. Jani's self-effacing "It's nothing, I'm not important" manner could very well lower his priority if it was a choice between him being treated and someone else with the same designation. Sav wasn't going to allow that, not if he could help it. A musician who couldn't play... well, they'd been through that with Rick, who had miraculously found a way to compensate. It had been a struggle, and Rick suffered from the effects long after he was back behind his kit.

But, if Jani protested much longer, Sav wouldn't insist on anything but sharing a cab to the nearest hospital, where he'd drop Jani off at the A&E doors and then continue on, on his own. There was only so much a person could do. Jani's injury wasn't life-threatening, and Sav didn't want the other musician thinking he was some pervert or something.

* * *

"If you really don't mind..."

If Jani knew one thing, it was that he didn't want to be left alone in a hospital in a foreign country with an injury that threatened to end his career – his life! However, he'd been accused by almost everyone he'd talked with today of being selfish and taking advantage of others. Tony, Anni, and Miia didn't want anything to do with him any longer for that very reason. He couldn't make sense out of Rick's offer, but it appeared that the Brit really meant it.

Rick's blue eyes were sincere, making it impossible for Jani to decline, regardless of what he thought, that he shouldn't drag Rick into this. He blinked.

"I don't think I want to be on my own in this," he admitted. "If you're sure..." He bit his lip. Rick hadn't really said that he wanted to come, only that someone should go with him. Jani knew he was right. He was a mess and not sure he could look after himself in this moment, not after the day he'd had. He hadn't lied to Rick when he'd told him earlier that their brief meeting had improved his day, and that had been even before Tony, Anni, and Miia had read him the riot act.

Rick was offering him the help that he needed. Accepting it wasn't selfish but logical. Jani took a shaky breath and gave Rick a shy smile. "Thank you for not leaving me alone."

* * *

Jani mulled it over while Sav tried to control his tendency to fidget. Bouncing his knee at this time time could be interpreted as impatience, fiddling with his jewelry or hair as boredom. When he finally accepted the offer, Sav straightened up and started to breathe again. "You're welcome, mate. No problem at all."

He stood, getting a look at the taxi situation down on the street. There were almost as many of them as regular cars and lorries. The question now was whether he could hail one from the sidewalk or if he had to figure out an Italian website on his smartphone. Jani had mentioned using the on-site event staff for assistance; Sav didn't want to leave him alone for very long and he would probably have to go back inside the arena to find them.

Or maybe not. He spotted one, based on the colour and design of her shirt, who was walking by maybe four metres from him. "Wait here," he told Jani. Standing, he approached the woman, who he estimated was around thirty-two, about Rick's height, and with the Mediterranean complexion and build of the region. "Excuse me... Scusa? Parli inglese?"

Being on the road for so many years, Sav didn't consider himself a total yokel, but that was almost the full extent of his Italian besides profanity and ordering dinner. He made sure his All Areas pass was visible and prominent. Dark eyes ran over him, but other than that the woman was all business. Immediately she responded in English, asked where he needed to go, advised him of the nearest recommended A&E, made a call, and in less than five minutes, he was pointed to a taxi pulling up to the kerb.

That sorted, Sav looked around for Jani.

* * *

When Rick left to find a taxi, Jani wanted to scream at him to stay. He knew it was stupid, but without Rick sitting next to him, there was nobody and nothing that could distract him from thinking.

His thoughts weren't comforting ones. The rational part of him understood that his broken finger needed to be seen, treated somehow, and after wearing a splint for a few weeks, he would most likely be able to play again. Unfortunately, there was this other part of his brain that couldn't care less about what common sense suggested. That part painted horror scenarios that had him not only losing his finger but the entire hand due to infection and what else. He'd never play guitar again, yet the infection wouldn't be bad enough to kill him although he'd rather die than have to give up his beloved music.

Jani's mind was screaming at him that he should run away – _Run away, run away, run away!_ the chorus of 'Full Moon' rang in his head – and hide, while he knew that would only serve to make things worse, much worse. Also, he was shaking so hard now that he wasn't even sure if he could as much as get up from the stone wall Rick had made him sit on. Vittu, but he needed a drink. Same problem, though, he probably wouldn't make it to a place where he could get one. Furthermore, ingesting – more – alcohol before a visit to the emergency department was probably the worst idea ever, regardless of much he craved it.

Rick had barely left when Jani already felt an intense loss, almost like a small child who suddenly found his mother gone. It was all too much. He wished that Anni, Miia, anyone, would hold him and promise him that all would be well. Realising that he was beginning to panic – so this was what real panic felt like; it was far worse than what he knew from the seconds before hitting the stage – he forced himself to breathe calmly. It was a strange feeling, as if he were watching himself losing control and at the same time being able to react to it. Breathing helped a little, as did the by now cooler summer air before his body reminded him that he was still soaked in cold sweat and he started shivering again.

Jani forced another deep breath and told himself that it could be worse. He wasn't alone in this and for some reason he couldn't explain he felt safe with Rick. Now, if Rick would only return...

* * *

It had been only minutes, and Jani looked worse for the wear. He hadn't moved, which was good. Sav had feared that Jani would panic and bolt. He'd have gone after him, but good luck finding him in the crowd.

That was unnecessary, however. Slumped on the wall, Jani looked less able to walk than before. His face and neck gleamed with sweat that Sav didn't recall being there when he went to make arrangements. Then there was his hand... Time being of the essence, Sav loped over to speak to the driver, letting him know his friend was hurt and he needed to go get him, so wait, please. 'Friend', he mused to himself. He really had used that word. Funny, considering he'd known the bloke for a combined total of 30 minutes, tops.

"Our ride's here. C'mon, get up now." If Jani could manage it on his own, that would probably be his preference. He hadn't protested when being assisted earlier. More like he had been blankly passive in a way that Sav deduced meant Jani wasn't the touchy-feely type. By then, he'd also been in a great deal of pain. Still was.

As he'd half-expected, Jani made no move so Sav went around to his good side and bent down to lever him up. "Keep the hand up," he directed, insinuating himself as before with Jani's right arm around his shoulder. The kid's backpack lay on the wall, and he grabbed it. "It's just over there..." Sav gestured with a jerk of his chin.

* * *

Eventually, Rick returned him and told him that there was a taxi waiting for them. Jani knew he had to get up, but by now he wasn't sure if his legs would carry him. Rick seemed to get that and he didn't linger but helped Jani to his feet, reminding him to keep his injured hand raised, and supported him during the short walk.

If he'd been unsure a moment ago if he'd be able to reach the taxi on his own, he now knew that he couldn't have made it. What the hell was wrong with him that he couldn't even manage these few metres? Rick helped him on the back seat, then sat next to him, taking care not to jostle his arm.

"Thank you again," Jani whispered, "also, sorry again." He grimaced, then added with a hint of his usual dry humour, "And sorry in advance for the continuous apologising. I'm not... used to this." 'This' meaning people he'd barely met being so nice to him. He knew it was stupid that he kept telling Rick how sorry he was. If anything, it probably made the man uncomfortable, but Jani couldn't seem to help it.

The driver started the car. To Jani's relief, it was only a short ride until the taxi pulled up in front of what was clearly a hospital entrance. He reached for his backpack to pay but Rick waved him off. OK, he'd pay him back later.

Stopping himself just in time before thanking and apologising again, Jani found that he was actually relieved that they'd arrived at a hospital and a doctor could now take care of his hand. However, first he'd have to get out of the car. Aware of how much he depended on Rick, Jani swallowed down his pride. If Rick hadn't meant his offer to come along, Jani had given him plenty of opportunity to change his mind. Rick hadn't left, so Jani should no longer feel guilty for accepting the continuing support.

"I'm afraid I'm going to need your help again getting up," he said, actually managing to smile a little.

* * *

In the taxi, Jani thanked Sav for being there, then returned to his multiple apologies. He must really have some self-worth issues. "No need to apologise," Sav told him, not convinced Jani heard him. He went on in what he hoped was a soothing manner, trying to keep the kid calm, "I was on a footie team out of school... saw my share of toes bent to all hell and what-not. Fallen off the stage a few times, too. Never had that," he glanced pointedly at Jani's hand, "but was always happy someone was there to pick me up from the floor. Apart from the embarrassment, on the unplanned stage dives. Karma and all that, right?" Yeah, he'd made some distinctly ungraceful moves, and it didn't sound nice through about ten thousand watts of PA, either.

It took less time than he expected to arrive at the emergency department. Besides the fact that Jani needed to be seen right away, it kept Sav from focusing on the nicotine craving that had kicked in, likely from the scent of it on Jani's clothes.

"We're here," he supplied. Jani could see that, he could tell. Now there were nerves, besides pain and the prospective of not playing, written all over the pale oval face. Sav could see he was going to have to assist Jani again – he was getting used to this – and after paying the driver helped Jani to his feet again. They were close enough together that the long red mane flew in Sav's face when a stray breeze caught them; he made a show of shaking the tangles away and spitting strands out of his mouth. His own hair was half the length it had been back in the day, but a lot more manageable in the wind.

It wasn't a concern for long, because then they were walking toward thick sliding doors, under fluorescent lights, and into the universal hospital scent of disinfectant. A triage nurse with a tablet in hand hurried toward them. Knowing no personal information about Jani besides his first name and country of origin, Sav was not qualified to answer any question. Hell, he wasn't really qualified to be here. The British in him – born and bred – insisted he remove himself and give the man some privacy. But when he went to duck out from under Jani's arm, it became clear he wasn't going anywhere, not yet.

* * *

Rick helped him out of the taxi and Jani leaned on him. Now that he'd finally admitted to himself that he really couldn't do this alone, he found it a little easier to accept the help. He listened as Rick told him about his youth, that he'd played football. Jani nodded. Football was for the British what hockey was for a Finn. When he opened his mouth to reply a gust of wind blew his hair in Rick's face and Rick spluttered. Jani flinched, he should have thought of tying his hair back, but Rick held him firmly by his good arm and didn't complain, so Jani tried to ignore this little incident rather than offering yet another apology.

"I played hockey in school," he volunteered instead, "although I wasn't too good at it. It was great fun, though." He smiled. "I'm from Lapland, northern Finland. We have long winters there. The season for outdoor football would be too short."

The brief distraction was welcome, but then they entered the hospital and when the smell of disinfectant hit his nose, Jani became quiet again. A nurse approached them, took one look at his hand and led them to a cubicle. She indicated that he should sit and prepared to take down his personal information. When Rick, who was still holding him up, looked as if he were going away, if only to give him privacy, Jani panicked. Before he even understood what he was doing, he clutched at Rick's arm and whispered urgently, "Could you stay? Please stay!"

* * *

'Go with it,' Sav told himself. He did not like hospitals, clinics, surgeries... medical, dental, physio, it didn't matter, he hated it. He'd been fine the entire time, knowing where they were going and that he'd, at the very least, need to get Jani inside the door. It had been more than ten years; he thought he was over it: that smell, the calculating eyes of the doctors and nurses, needles and prodding, bright lights, holding still forever for scans. Once he'd passed out during an MRI and woke up half a day later with a catheter and he could think of nothing worse, ever. The memories started to overwhelm him: he was ready to say his goodbyes and get free of the oppressive atmosphere of bleach-substitute and misery.

Then Jani, his face so close already that Sav could smell the vodka lingering on his breath, looked at him with such despair, the whites of his eyes showing, the irises dark blue around blown pupils. Dammit, he even begged, although Sav doubted he'd intended that frightened-child tone. Be it empathy or a protective instinct he'd never found a home for, Sav sort of melted. It was not in his hands any longer – he couldn't ditch the lad now. He had to put his own issues aside... somehow. Someone or something else was in control now. The two of them would just have to be like the blind leading the blind.

"I will, okay? I'll stick around for the duration." If that turned into a promise he couldn't keep, Sav would make sure it was for a damned good reason, such as if they were kept waiting all night and he was in danger of missing his flight. "Just keep the backa yer gown closed, mate!" At some point, the staff might have to physically pry Jani off of him but till then, he could live with with being his stabilising shelter. With bad jokes. And a soothing voice, and a calm face. Who, him? Yes, him. He had to.

Sav knew what was going on with him. His rib cage felt too small, and the same for his pants. He wanted to turn his head and lick the sweat off Jani's neck. A person didn't get to be his age without being able to put a label on it. And it was so entirely inappropriate that he almost did hope they'd never see each other again after tonight. He would find himself another woman soon and lose himself in that for a while. They never lasted; Sav had accepted – with difficulty, but it was that or go mad – that fact as part of his life.

* * *

Jani wasn't aware that he'd held his breath until he released it, slumping down in his chair. He was still feeling lightheaded and in a lot of pain, but now that Rick had promised that he wouldn't leave him alone, he was maybe a little less scared.

Then Rick said something Jani didn't understand, about keeping the back of his gown closed? It was probably his bad English. Before he could ask Rick to repeat what he'd said, the nurse began to ask him about his name, age, address, and medical history – which he hadn't, really – and he managed to answer more or less coherently.

She then told him that his European health insurance card that he, thankfully, carried with him qualified him for treatment. It didn't mean much to him, but she explained that it saved him a ton of paperwork. He still couldn't have cared less although he recognised that this was probably somehow important; yet all he wanted was for someone to tell him that his finger would be fine.

The doctor who came to see them next didn't promise him that either. She took a quick look at his hand and declared the finger broken. At that point, Jani thought he must be recovering his wits because he managed an eyeroll. She then instructed the nurse as to something in Italian and explained to Jani that they were going to give him something for the pain, then take an X-ray of his hand and set the fracture. He was supposed to check in with his physician at home in a few days when the swelling had gone down to see if a splint would do or if surgery was required.

Immediately, Jani broke into a cold sweat again. Surgery? Please no! Why couldn't they just put a cast on it and be done with it? He'd never considered himself claustrophobic, but he suddenly wanted to flee from this hospital even more than earlier in the day when the others had forced him on stage.

The doctor narrowed her eyes as she seemed to take in his overall appearance and asked him how much he'd been drinking. Jani frowned. There'd been several beers, several rum-and-cokes, vodka... While he was still trying to run up a tally, she apparently decided that she wasn't going to get an answer.

"How much has he had?" she addressed Rick. "And has he been doing drugs? I'm not going to report you to the police, but I need to know what medication I can give him."

* * *

While the nurse took the necessary vital statistics, which Sav was still not convinced he should be present for, he remained quiet. He picked up a few facts as well, such as Jani's last name. The guitarist had had to spell it – in English – for the nurse, and Sav could remember the double 'i' and the basic sense of it well enough to be able to find him with any online search engine. Jani was 25. 25! Christ, barely more than half of Sav's age. By that age, though, he'd been in a band for seven years, probably had consumed enough alcohol to drown a bull elephant, in the studio to make their fourth album, and a bright future still ahead of them even after what had happened to Rick, stubborn little bastard that he was who never gave up.

Still lost in 1985, Sav missed it when the doctor asked him... something. All eyes were on him. Impatiently, the physician, likely still a registrar, barked at him what drugs Jani had taken, how much he'd had to drink. "Sorry, I don't know. He fell, and I helped him up from the floor at the Gods of Metal concert. That's really all I know."

The doctor didn't believe him, he could tell. She glared at him as if he were Jani's abusive pimp. Sav didn't much care for it. Whatever else he was, the sex trade was not his thing. He narrowed his eyes in return. Maybe being a little older and being taken for some chavvy ponce had one advantage: she wasn't going to try to chat him up.

After a pause, he continued. "Our bands both played today," he explained, trying not to sound annoyed. "We only just met today, for a minute. And then I happened on him in time to see two... women knock him over. That's all I know."

* * *

The doctor didn't seem satisfied with Rick's response. Jani had meanwhile come to the conclusion that he couldn't quantify the amount of alcohol he'd drunk. All he could tell was that, the more he thought about it, it had been a lot.

"He doesn't know," he said quietly. "It's like he said, we only met briefly earlier. Then I fell and he... took care of me. I... don't know how much I've been drinking," Jani confessed. "It's been a long day. Probably too much... But I'm not doing any drugs." Like probably everybody else he smoked pot on occasion, but not recently.

She didn't look convinced but nodded. "We'll test you for your blood alcohol level, then. And now," she turned to Rick, "I'll need you to wait outside while we take the X-ray."

Jani didn't want him to leave but judging from the doctor's voice Rick staying wasn't an option.

* * *

The doctor shot each of them another dubious look, but seemed satisfied they had answered to the best of their abilities, which wasn't saying much. Then she ordered Sav to leave the room while they X-rayed Jani's hand. Relief that he didn't have to witness any sort of medical procedure, however non-invasive, warred with his desire to stick close to Jani like he'd promised, which in turn scraped the conflicting feelings roiling around in his gut. He nodded and stood up, wincing when one of his knees popped, then turned back.

"I'll be outside the door, Jani," he said, waiting until comprehension registered on the upturned face before moving his aging carcass. "In the hallway... I'll come back as soon as they let me in." Like he might do with any mate, Sav gave Jani's shoulder a squeeze and a pat. The nurse was wheeling in a cart; Sav didn't want to see what was on it.

* * *

When Rick squeezed his shoulder, Jani wanted to catch his hand and keep him there but that was, of course, ridiculous. Rick had promised to stay with him and he trusted him. Noticing again that Rick looked a little worn out, too – he'd had a busy day and evening – Jani would do everything he could to not make things even harder.

"Thank you," he said. "Maybe you should get a coffee or something." He tried to sound unconcerned but he saw in Rick's eyes that he wasn't very convincing. Still, maybe he got kudos for the attempt.

Rick left and the doctor returned her attention to Jani. "We'll start with the X-ray, then your friend can come back." The nurse placed a lead-shield over his groin and the doctor guided his hand to the top surface of the cart that apparently was a portable X-ray machine. It hurt when she moved his finger. Jani bit his lip and tried to suppress any sound, but he wasn't successful.

"We'll give you something for pain, but we need to check your blood alcohol level before that." The doctor continued to shift his hand around until she was satisfied with the positioning. "Don't move now." She and the nurse stepped back. The procedure was repeated for two more hand positions, by which time Jani was again drenched in cold sweat from the pain. When they were finished, the nurse was sent off after receiving more instructions in Italian.

"She'll return with a breathalyser," the doctor announced. "I'm sure you know how that works." She didn't sound as if she approved of him. "The images are being sent to an orthopaedist. They'll decide on the most advisable treatment. Your friend can stay with you until then."

Without further ado, she left Jani alone. With his hand hurting more and more, Jani hoped that Rick was nearby or that someone would at least tell him that he could return now.

* * *

People passed by from both directions, all of them in a hurry. Sav stayed out of the way. Jani's suggestion he get some coffee was probably a good one, the long day beginning to have its effects on him. Tired as hell, almost strung-out feeling, eyelid twitching once or twice. Still, how long could it take to do a few X-rays? He didn't want to get lost in a strange hospital, in a strange town and wander around for an hour trying to get back to where he'd started. Belatedly, Sav wondered if that had been Jani's way of hinting that he needed coffee, since he seemed disinclined to ask outright for anything.

Pacing back and forth three or four steps, Sav's mind started to overlay another timeframe again. Would this never end today? It harkened back to god-knows-where in Bumfuck North America, to where "Yaaah, sure, yoo betcha," was as commonplace as hello and good-bye, when Steve had been found near dead in a gutter and the rest of them had flown there, rushed to the hospital where no one would let them near the room where they'd put Steve nor tell them anything. Sav blamed the reference to a coffee run. He hadn't been able to sit still or stop popping his gum and nattering away about nothing. Phil snarled at him, Rick stared at the floor and looked like death himself, surely lost in his own flashbacks. They finally had the idea to send Sav for coffee – so he'd gone and gotten lost in the rabbit warren of underground tunnels, finally finding his way back with ice-cold coffee – the wrong thing for Brits anyway, and tearful, pissed off bandmates who had had a hell of a scare. He'd been able, after waiting for something like six hours just outside the intensive care ward, to handle only ten seconds of staring at the pale face motionless on the pillow before he'd bolted from the room. It had only been a foreshadowing.

The downhill spiral followed. Sav hadn't been able to cope with watching it. Now, here, every day since then he wished he'd forced himself to go with Joe to the "cuckoo's nest" as their leader put it, but he hadn't been strong enough. And then...

The doctor marched out of the room without a look in his direction. A few seconds later, the nurse followed, pausing to let him know he was allowed to go back in. Sav stuffed his trembling hands in his front pockets and took a cleansing breath. The door was open. He closed it behind himself. Jani didn't look happy, or less happy than the not-happy before. Having to move his arm even a little for the radiology had to be a bitch. "Hey." Sav sat down next to him. "Did you actually want coffee? I can't believe they didn't get any ice for that yet."

* * *

Rick returned and mentioned icing Jani's hand. As if on cue, a nurse appeared, however, she wasn't carrying ice but an electronic gadget that Jani recognised as an alcohol level testing device. As the doctor had insinuated, Jani was familiar with those – although he'd never driven when he was drunk. It wasn't the same nurse as earlier and she didn't speak much English. It wasn't necessary, though, as the procedure didn't need explaining; she pointed at the mouthpiece and he blew into it. She didn't tell him the result before she left and returned a moment later with an ice pack – finally.

Jani hissed when she lifted his hand and wrapped the pack around it. The pain eased a little but by far not enough for his liking. She pointed at his good hand and said something in Italian, which he didn't understand. Turning toward the cupboards and drawers in the tiny room and gathering a few things, she showed him a tourniquet and a needle and he nodded. Apparently, they'd finally give him something for the pain. He nodded and smiled at her.

It took three attempts to put the... whatever these things were called in the back of his hand. She looked apologetic, but compared to the pain in his broken finger, the needle sticks barely registered. To his disappointment, however, she only hooked him up to a bag of yellow fluid that didn't seem to lessen his pain. She pointed at her wristwatch, said, "Doctor," which Jani interpreted as having to wait some more, then she left again.

As soon as they were alone, Jani grimaced. "No coffee, thanks, but I sure as hell wouldn't mind something for pain." Or was it something against pain? It didn't matter, Rick would understand. "I hope they hurry up. Did you get some coffee? And did you at least have something to eat after your gig?"

If he hadn't, Rick must be starving by now. Jani hadn't eaten at all, but he'd compensated with liquid calories. Rick didn't strike him as the type to do that, nor did he appear to be drunk. Or maybe he was just hiding it well.

* * *

"No, no coffee. British. Tea." Sav grinned a bit. "Didn't wanna get lost looking for the cafe. It happened once before... came to mind while I was out there," he tipped his head sideways toward the door, then tossed his hair back. "Got lost one other time. Years ago. In some hospital. Seemed like those corridors were all miles long. Just when you thought you were at the end... assume it wasn't a good experience." To say the least. But why was he going on about it now? He'd been trying to forget it, put it back under its rock, till his tongue got the better of him... wouldn't be the first time.

"Sorry, never mind me." Sav shifted his chair, so he could turn his head without totally being in Jani's face. "Yes, to answer your other question: they had plenty to eat backstage after Whitesnake, so I'm set." Again, there went Jani asking after Sav's comfort but not his own. "And you? I take it you were at the festival all day. Where did you hang out? I mean, besides at Def Leppard."

* * *

"Oh, right, British. Tea." Jani managed to grin back. The numbing effect of the ice pack made the throbbing in his hand a little more bearable. "Me's Finnish. Coffee. No, really, Finns drink more coffee than anyone else in the entire world. I had some – make that a lot – earlier. Wouldn't have made it through the day otherwise. Well, coffee and, you know, booze." He sighed. In hindsight he should, of course, have kept his drinking down. By his standards, he hadn't been drunk when the girls had knocked him over, but... Well, everything came with 'if'; who knew what could have happened 'if' this or 'if that.

"Where did I hang out," he repeated Rick's question. To his surprise he found that he didn't mind the conversation. Like already earlier in the day, Rick seemed genuinely interested and talking helped take his thoughts away from his hand. "After our set, I went for a drink first. We'd been up since way too early in the morning, so I thought I'd catch a nap. That worked out a little too well," Jani grimaced. "I found a quiet spot backstage and slept through my alarm, missing our signing session as well as Stratovarius' set, which I'd have loved to see. They have a new bass player." He smiled at Rick. "We were support for them in 2000. It was our first tour ever." Good old times... Memories began to surface...

Rick had been listening with intent and was looking at him, so Jani continued. "Me missing the Meet and Greet didn't go down well with the rest of the band, but compared to this..." He glanced at his hand and swallowed. "There's a possibility that my days with Sonata are over. I was already on... kind of probation," he said quietly. Why was he telling this to the other man? He carried on nevertheless, driven by a sudden urge he couldn't explain.

"The others weren't too happy with my drinking lately and... some other things. The Meet and Greet pretty much ran the cup over. I've been given one more chance, and then this happened... Shit," Jani bit his lip. "My life has been a mess for a while, but... This is a fucking nightmare and it doesn't look as if I'll wake up anytime soon."

* * *

Now that he'd finally started, Jani had no problem talking. Since he hadn't the slightest clue of Jani's everyday personality, Sav let him talk, nodding or "mm-hm"-ing to signify he was listening. Some of it was benign chit-chat like the overview of his day and some tidbits about his touring experience. His future due to his injury came up again; it had to be a mountain of dread for the guitarist. Apparently, his uncertain status with his band had more than a broken finger at its centre.

The hairs on Sav's arms rose as Jani went into more detail about his personal life. Granted, most musicians in their collective genre went through the "sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll" phase, temporarily or permanently. Aerosmith had been the first to clean themselves up and become Mega-stars a second time for it. Def Leppard had cut back in varying degrees. Sav still drank on occasion, as evidenced today; he gave up the rest of it after the first tidal wave of grief over... had receded.

This lad was in the midst of it, then. If his bandmates were concerned or pissed off, then he'd already gone past being able to cover up an addiction. Bad habit. Whatever it was. It sounded as if Jani knew it, too.

Sav couldn't think of what to say that wouldn't come out as either patronising, jaded, or flip. After what seemed too long, he settled on, "This – the finger – isn't your fault. I can vouch for you there." It might not help with Jani's band, but he had, after all, witnessed it in case anyone cared to ask him. Not sure what the other man already knew or cared to know about Lep, he proceeded in halting sentences. "Like most, my band's been there, done that. Comes a time..." only, not for everyone, "... ah, I dunno, mate. Missing work commitments... you said 'drinking'... are you happy in this band anyway?" He raised his hands in the gesture of 'I surrender' – it could be a prickly subject, one he'd been over too many times to count.

* * *

Rick was a good listener. Or at least, Jani thought he was, since he had no experience with this. How was it possible that he couldn't talk to any of his friends, nor his – former – girlfriends, yet he suddenly found himself opening up to someone he'd only first met a few hours ago? It couldn't be simply because Rick was a fellow musician or because of his age. Jani had met plenty of colleagues in a large age range over the past years. No, this was special, and although his injury surely added to put him in a different mind frame, he'd already felt almost comfortable talking to Rick earlier. That had been about gear, not anything private, though, and now Jani had begun to volunteer things he barely even admitted to himself. Rick's 'been there, done that' suggested that he understood what Jani was going through, so maybe he wasn't as put off by Jani's confession as he should have been.

Then Rick asked him if he was happy with Sonata. It was a loaded question Jani had refused to ask himself for a long time already. His first reaction was a strong urge to flee, which he couldn't, not while he was sitting in a hospital with a broken finger and nowhere to go. He could, of course, avoid answering. Jani didn't think that Rick would force the subject. However, Rick had agreed to stay with him although he surely must have better things to do. Jani owed him for that. And, if he was honest with himself, the other man certainly had a point.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "I've... not wanted to think about it, I guess. We've been playing together since I was 16. The guys are my best friends and Sonata is my life. I can't even begin to think of ever doing anything else. But lately... You know what it's like. You've been with Def Leppard a long time. You wouldn't still be with them if it wasn't your life, right? This isn't a job you can do if you're not 200 per cent with it. Until a few months ago, I thought I was, but..."

He sighed. Thinking about it was painful, but putting it into words felt... right somehow. "We've been touring a lot lately. Too much. You live for a couple of hours on stage every day and don't know what to do with yourself during the remaining time. So yes, there's a lot of partying been going on, and it wasn't just me. Then when you're back home, you get settled, return to being yourself. After a while, you start working on a new album and all that, passion is rekindled by new songs. You love what you're doing and you look forward to the next tour, your batteries recharged and all that, until the tour becomes annoying again, rinse, repeat."

Rick gave him encouraging nods and Jani knew the bassist knew exactly what he meant. "Only, recently, the returning home part doesn't seem to work for me. I dunno why, but my batteries won't recharge. I'm tired and listless, there are days when I don't feel like even touching an instrument. It's scary. And Tony, our singer, he's a great composer, but I feel myself disagreeing more and more with him. I have song ideas, too, but I'm not sure they fit with where he wants the band to go and I don't want to fight with him. Plus, there's all this other stuff that's got nothing to do with the band." Jani shook his head. He wasn't going to start with his most recent bout of girl trouble or, let alone, his conscription issues.

"Am I happy with Sonata Arctica? I couldn't tell you because I've never known anything else since my teenage years. Maybe another good question would be, am I happy? That one's easier and the answer is most definitely no."

A wave of misery swept over him. He didn't like feeling so exposed although he hadn't been forced to answer. The room suddenly seemed to shrink and he squirmed in his chair. "Not that this," Jani nodded toward his hand, "makes me any happier, of course," he said bitterly.

* * *

"'Record, tour, get sick of touring, rinse, repeat'... so true." Sav found himself nodding along again. While their success had allowed them to take longer breaks than a lot of bands' oppressive schedules as well as more 'artistic freedom', to their heavy metal fans' disgust, he could well remember being about Jani's age give AND take a few years and the 230-plus shows they'd played following Hysteria. Then touring nearly every summer since Adrenalize. "Can you feature still doing this in 20 years, with your current band or another?" Gesturing at himself, he added wryly, "You're looking it. The five us in the band now, we've been the same for 14 years now. But I've been in it since the beginning, 29 years. Good lord. A long time." He rolled his eyes and fluffed up his hair, a habit he could never lose carried over from the days of excessive hairspray. It felt kind of nice for someone he hadn't known forever, a fan, or an interviewer to ask him about it. But it wasn't about him right now, and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Not making light of you... not at all. Making music, and making a living at it, is both very satisfying and very difficult. The circumstances have to line up exactly right. If your front man is the one calling all the shots, artistically, and you have ideas that are being disregarded, that's gotta be frustrating. I were lucky... no one ever told me to go stand over there and shut up because I was just the dumb bass player." No, on the contrary, he'd co-written most songs and sang a lot of backing vocals. He knew how fortunate he was. "Your other troubles, well, I won't pry of course. It's hard to be away from home so much, as you know. If things are less than happy there..." He shrugged. Jani could elaborate or not, Sav left it up to him. In his own case, there had been years when on the road or not didn't matter one way or another, because it was himself, his own body, or rather his face, that he couldn't escape.

* * *

Could he still be doing this in 20 years? Jani thought about it. Rick had again asked an obvious and pertinent question Jani had avoided, not only because of his recent conflicts. Twenty years was a long time when you were 25 and the future was endless.

"Hell, I can't even tell where I'd want to be in 20 minutes – except probably that I'll wish for any place other than here," he said, "let alone in 20 years. One thing I know, though, is that I could never be anything other than a musician. That was never an option and it will never be one either. But in six months time from now I'll probably be in jail. Haven't really thought much further than that."

Jani immediately cursed himself for bringing it up. Even though talking to Rick seemed to do him good, he'd have to watch what he was saying. "Never mind," he added quickly. "It's kinda complicated. A Finnish thing." Rick had been sitting with him listening patiently, but while discussing pitfalls and hardships of a musician's life was one thing, Jani didn't intend to elaborate on Finnish conscription laws. He was saved from saying more when a man entered the small room – okay, 'saved' didn't describe it very well as Jani's stomach clenched immediately.

"Good evening, gentlemen, my name is Dr. Bartoli and I'm here to see what I can do for your finger," the man introduced himself in fluent but heavily-accented English. Jani suddenly wondered if the female doctor had introduced herself or if he'd forgotten her name, not that he'd trust his memory.

"So, Mr... _Liimatainen,_ can you tell me what happened?" The name sounded almost right, Jani had to give him that. Then again, he'd read somewhere that some people thought Italian and Finnish sounded similar, something to do with the vowels. Maybe they had a point.

"I stumbled and fell on my hand," he said, not ready to volunteer more. He hadn't been that drunk, but the accident, although Rick had confirmed that he also didn't think it was Jani's fault, would likely be attributed to his blood alcohol level, regardless of what he'd say.

"An unfortunate fall," the doctor said, "consistent with the injury as it shows itself in the images we just took. I'll begin with the good news. In a few months at most, you should have regained full use of your hand. The healing of the fracture itself will take about four weeks, followed by some time to overcome muscle loss and rigidity of the joints from not being able to use them for a while. You're a musician, did I understand that right?"

Jani nodded and the doctor continued. "My son broke his hand playing football a while back. He's a goal keeper – make that, _was_ a goal keeper as he gave that up after his accident because he also likes to play the piano. He recovered completely and I expect the same for you." He smiled and Jani felt a little less horrible although 'beginning with the good news' implied that there was more to come. He wasn't mistaken.

"May I?" The doctor asked and unwrapped the ice pack. Jani couldn't bring himself to look at his hand. "All right," Bartoli continued after he'd inspected the injury. "Here's the deal. There's a lot of bruising and swelling. So what I'm going to do now is set the fracture. The fragments that have been displaced need to be realigned. Anything else will have to wait a few days until the swelling has gone down. At that time, you'll check in with your local physician. I can't rule out that you may yet require surgery."

Surgery, please no, Jani thought. He was going to be sick...

* * *

Jail? That was an odd thing to project. If Jani wanted to continue being a musician, being locked was hardly conducive. What had he done? Just the mention of it had Jani closing in on himself again. They were saved any awkward silences by the doctor – a different one – showing up.

The first part of his consultation, where he expressed confidence that Jani could heal and have full use of his hand in a few months, was easy enough. Or, easy enough for Sav; he could imagine that "a few months" probably sounded like a life sentence for Jani. Just in the last few minutes, he'd said again that he could never feature himself doing any sort of work than playing music. Sav could relate. In Sheffield, you were a miner, or a factory worker, or you were on dole. What the options were in – Lapland? – he hadn't a clue. Fishing? Herding reindeer? Tourist industry? That was about the extent of his knowledge and it probably wasn't right.

He had no chance to consider it further. As soon as the doctor started to explain how he was going to set the break, Sav had to look away. He felt queasy, and it wasn't even his hand... "realign the fragments"... urgh! Wondering why this doctor didn't make him leave when the younger female one had done so for an X-ray, he wasn't exactly grateful. Chiding himself not to be a ninny, Sav clenched his teeth and fixed his eyes firmly in the opposite wall.

* * *

The doctor pushed a bowl under Jani's chin just in time. Instinctively, Jani raised his hands to hold his hair back while he vomited, but the sudden splitting pain in the left one stopped him. It went on for ever. Gasping for air between heaves and with tears streaming from his eyes, Jani puked and puked – where on earth did it all come from?

When it finally stopped, he felt so exhausted that he wasn't sure if he could even keep his eyes open but as soon as he closed them, everything started to spin and there was a buzzing noise in his ears.

"I think you might want to lie down," he heard the doctor's voice through a fog, then the noise and the pain faded into darkness.

* * *

Dr. Bartoli had been apprised that his patient, Jani Lii-something – he'd just go with his first name – was heavily intoxicated. He didn't look it, but his blood alcohol level told a different story. A Finnish musician according to his chart, he'd fractured his finger in a fall. Bartoli explained to him what needed to be done, then had a bowl ready when... _Jani_ began to vomit.

He'd been prepared for this reaction, a combination of the alcohol and shock. The young man's complexion indicated that he should be laid down while the bone was set and splinted. The moment Bartoli suggested it, his patient's face paled even more and he sagged against his companion's shoulder.

"Ah, I can see that you agree," Bartoli said lightly. "Come on, then." Mindful of the injured limb, he and the A&E nurse assigned to assist him got Jani up and onto the trolley bed. He briefly wondered why the registrar hadn't seen to this earlier already.

While the nurse took Jani's blood pressure, Bartoli addressed the other man who looked a little pale, too. "You're his friend? Would you rather wait outside?"

* * *

As things tend to do, it went downhill from there. If Sav thought he might puke, well then Jani did puke. A lot. How much had he drunk?? At first, the smell of it brought an unwelcome rush of bile into the back of Sav's throat. The doctor must have had a strong stomach and plenty of experience with vomiting patients: he was unfazed, when Sav shot a look in that direction, trying to assess if getting rid of the alcohol was good, or as bad as the process of it sounded.

But then Sav noticed Jani trying to keep his flame-red hair out of the way and his instincts kicked in again. Earlier, when the wind had blown it in his face, he'd noted how silky the strands were, not at all the fried, straw-like texture typical of chemically-treated hair, including his own if he wasn't diligent with his routine. He found himself holding a skein of it away from Jani's face, which had gone white as a ghost by now.

All that barfing followed by dry heaves and the events leading up to it left Jani unsurprisingly weak. He slumped against Sav, upper body leaning almost like dead weight. Had he passed out? That might be a mercy. Sav had been ready to hold Jani up, but the doctor and a nurse stepped in and manoeuvred Jani onto what was serving as a bed and readied some supplies while Sav watched, detached.

It only made sense he leave the room. He wasn't family or a close friend, and in all honesty, he didn't really want to see the younger man be put through more pain. "Yes," Sav let out with some relief. "I'll be just outside." When he stood to leave for the hallway a second time, he had to pause and gather himself before attempting to walk on not-so-steady legs. The medical staff, if he wobbled, might just assume he was drunk by association and try to make him take a breathalyser test, too. He didn't need that. Things like that – in the A&E and wasted – got leaked to the media all the time. The four or five drinks he'd had hours ago... Sav wasn't sure where he'd register but the buzz was 100 percent gone.

OK, better. He'd best go while he still could.

* * *

Had he fallen asleep? When Jani opened his eyes, he was lying flat on his back and a nurse was pulling a blanket over him. It was then that he noticed how cold it was. His throat was sore and the taste and smell of puke was overwhelming. Maybe the nurse had read his thoughts as she smiled at him and raised his head a little so he could sip water from a glass she held against his lips, then spit it out. Even that left him exhausted...

"Please offer some water to his friend, too," a male voice said and Jani frowned. It was the doctor, but his words didn't make sense. When the nurse took the water bottle and made for the door, Jani understood that the doctor hadn't spoken to him. He also understood that Rick wasn't there any longer...

"Your friend is waiting outside," the doctor explained. "I'd say let's not have him wait longer than necessary, meaning I'd like to start working on your hand now. We'll do this under local anaesthesia so you won't feel pain, but I nevertheless recommend a sedative to make you more comfortable."

Jani closed his eyes and nodded. He didn't want to know what was about to happen, he wanted it over with and to not think about it. And he wanted Rick to return. So whatever the doctor said he'd do was fine with him as soon as it didn't take long.

"Good," the doctor said. "Keep your eyes closed and try to relax, which you should find very easy in a minute."

The nurse took his good hand and he suddenly felt warm and a little fuzzy. Then there was a pinch in his left hand followed by... something... weird... going on... a pulling sensation... but he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore; he wasn't cold and in pain any longer. Everything felt a bit as if he were packed in cotton wool. Jani smiled. He was good now. Except maybe... He opened his eyes.

"Rick?"

"Almost done here," the doctor immediately responded. "Just hold on another minute and Rick will be right with you."

Nodding, Jani closed his eyes again. Rick would be back and everything would be good...

* * *

He was having flashbacks and more flashbacks, some to an hour ago, some to various years in the past, all of which Sav wanted to forget. Why was it all coming back to him now, tonight. Damn, he was so tired... yawn followed yawn... he was going to fall asleep on his feet at this rate. A kip against the wall was not anywhere near as fun as a fuck against the wall, but maybe more necessary right now...

Just as his head nodded forward, the nurse appeared at Sav's elbow. She nudged him gently enough, but he jerked violently awake, heart thudding so hard in his chest, he wondered if it was audible to her through his ribs and clothes. He was a handed a bottle of water, which he thanked the nurse for, more calm already. Surely she had more important work than providing refreshments. Since she hadn't already announced bad news, all was likely fine, or relatively fine. Truth be told, Sav had allowed himself the cat nap because he didn't think he could take it if he heard Jani scream in pain. It was silly. It was just a finger, and from his insinuations, Finnish were some stoic folk.

"How much longer?" he asked after a long swig of the water. It was warm but still better than nothing.

"Maybe... ten or twenty."

Minutes, Sav assumed. "Thank you." He hoped his inflection was enough that the nurse would go away. He didn't want other company – he just wanted to collect a fixed-up Jani and get the fuck out of here.

* * *

"Are you okay?" The voice sounded as if it was coming from a far distance. Was there something wrong with his in-ear monitors? It had an Italian accent... Vittu, this must be the FOH from hell... but hadn't they finished their set hours ago? And why couldn't he feel his left hand? Jani was confused.

"Just tired." This voice had a British accent, and why was the voice answering the question? Or hadn't the question been meant for Jani?

"Well, you'll be free to leave in no more than, say, half an hour," the Italian voice spoke again. "I need to have my notes typed up for his physician at home, but I'll try to make it quick. I understand that he'll be returning to Finland tomorrow. He should check in with a doctor there as soon as possible." Oh yes, he remembered now, this was a doctor and...

"Right."

...and this was Rick. Oh, and yes, they were at a hospital in Milan where Rick had taken him because he'd broken his pinkie. Satisfied that he'd got his bearings again, Jani smiled.

"We gave him something to relax," the doctor continued and Jani nodded happily. "He shouldn't be left alone. Could you see to that?"

"Tommy," Jani said, slurring a little. It got him a "Come again?" and he elaborated, which cost some effort, "'m sharing with Tommy."

"Great," the doctor said. "Then I'll see about the paperwork and we'll call you a taxi."

They'd come here by taxi, Jani remembered, and he owed Rick money for the ride. Something was niggling him in the back of his mind, something he'd been about to do on their way here. Maybe he could ask Tommy... Tommy...

"Perhana!" Jani exclaimed. It made him giggle a little; he was feeling so mellow that even his choice of swearwords seemed to have softened... Why was he swearing... Right... "Tommy's staying in Jörg's room," he explained. "Dunno which one. Same hotel. I think."

"Well, then we'll ask at the reception," Rick suggested.

Jani giggled again. "Can't." He knew now what he'd forgotten. It wasn't funny, so why was he giggling? "Dunno which hotel I'm in. Meant to call my girlfriend and ask for some numbers, but she switches her phone off when she goes to sleep after I called her too often when I was hammered on tour, back when she still was my girlfriend."

Rick looked confused. And, yes, tired, so very tired. Jani really shouldn't keep him up. "'s okay," he went on. "Taxi can dump me off at the festival venue. Maybe they found my phone. Must have lost it when Anni broke up with me, and then Miia."

* * *

If he hadn't been so damned tired, Sav might have had a good chuckle over Jani's nonsensical comments. 'Piranha?' Why would he bring up a carnivorous fish? Besides not knowing the name of his hotel – that much was clear – his accent had thickened to the point where Finnish or English was equal babble. Something about "Tommy", a band member, being in someone else's room, and drunk dialling his girlfriend, no, two girlfriends...? That took some big balls, stupid idea or not. Some birds liked shy blokes. Maybe more than he knew, since shy Sav was not even now, and at Jani's age... polar opposite.

The next melange of slurred words got Sav's immediate attention, and mild alarm. One thing was certain: Jani was not going to get "dumped off at the festival". Like as not he'd end up back here within the hour or arrested for public intoxication. No, the doctor had already implied he'd release Jani into Sav's care, and he intended to do just that: take care of the boy until either he was sure someone else reliable had been found or Jani recovered enough to fend for himself.

"Sorry, no, I don't think so." Sav approached the trolley bed Jani was still lying on. His face had lost the greenish tinge and tenseness, though he lay absolutely still cradling his hand against his chest. "Neither of us is in any shape to stumble around there all night. You're doped to the gills and I'm knackered. We can call the FOH or someone from my room at my hotel and ask after your phone. Maybe they also have contact information for your bandmates. I think we need to crash... it's a suite, I'll take the couch."

It dawned on him how that might sound. Presumptuous. Creepy. Inviting – no ordering – this currently vulnerable young musician to his room. Sav had to turn away to hide his colouring face, but it didn't make him back down. "I can't make you, Jani... but you should have someone look out for you right now. A'right?" Sav could only hope he was convincing enough.

* * *

"Oh." Calling someone at the venue to ask for his phone was an excellent idea. "You're a genius." Jani beamed at Rick. "Not that I think bassists are stupid, of course," he explained. "Make isn't stupid. He just likes to sleep..."

The thought made him yawn. Make had a point: Jani wanted to sleep, too, and Rick had just admitted to being tired and... had he just offered Jani his bed while he'd sleep on the couch?

"No. Your bed. I can sleep anywhere. Couch is fine. Or..." His thinking was a little slow and he wondered why Rick wasn't suggesting this. "I c'n get another room..."

Wait, Rick had said someone should look out for him. Ah, _that_ was the reason why he'd offered to share the suite... sweet... wasn't there a song by Def Leppard about pouring sugar on someone? Jani found himself humming...

Why was Rick suddenly looking away? Had Jani said something wrong or insulted him somehow? "Or we could share the bed, of course." So many times had he woken up with a drunk-slash-hungover Henkka snoring in Jani's ear, draped all over him, with Jani equally drunk-slash-hungover...

When Rick's eyes met his again, Jani smiled. With his blue eyes, longish blond hair, slightly flushed cheeks...

"You're pretty," Jani giggled.

* * *

They had given Jani the good drugs. Sav bypassed the 'genius' remark, including the qualifier that bass players were known to be dumb as rocks. It did make his lips curl up, hopefully not too unevenly. Jani must be referring to his own bassist, something about sleeping. It even provoked a yawn. Sav suppressed his – if they started now, they'd be trading them back and forth indefinitely.

"Kinda doubt you'll find an available room within 100 kilometres. With the festival, everything will be booked solid." Milan was huge, sure, but he had a feeling that the majority of the concert-goers were from elsewhere. If there was something open, they'd probably ask an exorbitant rate knowing it was the last room in the city. Sav shouldn't be surprised with Jani wanting his own. After all, he'd been disconcerted after the fact by having more or less informed Jani they'd be roommates. Except... now the younger man was blinking up at him, studying him, almost like... No. No way. He was just stoned from the pain meds, brain-to-mouth filter obliterated.

Wait, was that Sugar he was humming? Weird. Having belted out the lyrics thousands of times to anything from disinterested pub crowds to packed-full, screaming arenas, Sav could admit that the song was part of the world party playlist, but not for a 25-year old metalhead. He'd probably have laughed over the contradiction in genres when...

'Pretty'? Sav snorted loudly out of pure surprise. That was about the last thing he'd expected the kid to say to him, even in this state. Maybe Jani had blond roots under the red. No, not judging by the eyebrows and stubble, which inevitably led to the pre-programmed 'carpet match the drapes' line of thought. Bloody hell. "And you're high," Sav countered. How was it the Aussies put it? "Off your face. Go to bed with a 10, wake up with a 2." He grinned to take the edge off, although the sideways reference to sharing a bed, which he'd ignored somehow, now hung in the air.

Thank g*d, the swarthy little doctor returned at that moment. Sav was starting to twitch in places he'd rather not. First off, adjusting oneself in leather trousers was a bitch and the reaction was so inappropriate. He shook his hair forward again as partial cover of the side of his face and willed it not to act up now.

At last, the discharge paperwork seemed to be in order. Better than letting his thoughts run wild, Sav took charge of listening to instructions for Jani's care – ice, medication, rest, nothing he could do about following up back home – and zipped the papers into an outside pocket on his backpack. Getting Jani levered up onto his feet wasn't easy; his entire frame was slack and heavy from the drugs, which Sav fervently hoped could wear off before they got to his hotel because first, the place was labyrinthine and his room was at the far end of the corridor as opposed to the elevator, and secondly, the entire potential backlash if someone got the wrong idea. That was kind of ridiculous – they were both grown men, both professional musicians, they could just be drinking mates.

One of the nurses from earlier popped in, letting them know that a taxi was waiting for them out front. Sav had the feeling she had placed him, and was trying very hard not to say something or ask for his autograph. "Alright, let's go."

* * *

Jani tried to focus on whatever Rick said, but his brain couldn't seem to catch up with it. Going from a ten to a two? He vaguely remembered something about binary numbers in school. Wasn't a binary one-zero equal to a decimal two? Was a binary one-zero the same as a binary ten? And what did it have to do with the hundred kilometres Rick had mentioned before – or did it?

He opened his mouth to ask, but didn't want to interrupt the conversation Rick was now having with the doctor – and when had the doctor returned? And what else had he missed?

Before he could figure out the answer to any of his questions, he was sat up, told to let his legs dangle, then pulled to his feet and made to walk down an endless hall. It reminded him of one of Risto's old Nintendo games where one had to fly a spaceship through a meandering corridor. Only here, the challenge was to walk in a straight line while the room kept wobbling. Jani clung to Risto with his good hand, meaning it must be Risto who held the controller...

No, not Risto, of course, Risto was short and dark, this was Rick – almost the same name, but tall and blond. And he didn't have a controller in his hands. Jani checked his own left hand, then, and noticed for the first time that it was covered in a bandage. It was also numb... The white bandage would have gone nicely with Rick's earlier stage outfit, Jani thought, wondering if he should offer it to Rick...

Then they were suddenly outside and Jani found himself in the backseat of a taxi with Rick. He was sooo tiiiirreeeeed; he could feel his thoughts slowing down... "Is it okay if I..." he murmured but didn't get to finish the sentence before his head sagged against Rick's shoulder and he was asleep.

* * *

While he was careful not to bump Jani's injured hand, Sav had sort of... pour him into the back seat of the taxi. He wasn't going to be able to slide over, so Sav went around the back and climbed in behind the driver. Told to put his seat belt on, he reached back for it, and then stopped. Jani would need his help here, too. Not that he asked. He just sat there, blinking, just as stoned as he'd been inside.

"Just gonna do your seat belt, alright?" It would've been a lot easier if he'd thought about that before being seated in the back seat of a compact car. Eventually he got the strap wrestled into place and the fastener clicked. Then he reached back over his right shoulder and something big, warm, and heavy fell against his other side. Sav let out a puff of air – his companion was completely zonked. But the driver waited patiently – and why not? His meter was running – for Sav to buckle up, and they were off.

From the morning, Sav couldn't have said in which direction they'd taken between the hotel and the festival. It must have been in the opposite direction from that of venue-to-hospital. The traffic was heavy, even in the middle of the night, which was prime time for partying after the day of concerts. Stop, start, stop, start... the motion lulled him into a half-awake state, this time not voluntarily on his part.

The car stopped, but didn't go again. The driver spoke up, "Scuza. We are here – hotel," and Sav snapped awake. Looking for the cabfare amount on the dashboard, he paid it plus tip, half-tripped out of the car, got his feet under him. Meanwhile, when he went around to get Jani out, which he was kind of dreading considering how out of it Jani had been when they'd left the A&E, he found the door already open. Jani looked up at him, and Sav could see immediately he was much more alert. There was that head-ducking, self-effacing, "don't look at me" expression, aside from the fact that he managed to look up and acknowledge his whereabouts, as in, didn't have a clue where he was.

"Good morning," Sav greeted him wryly. "Need any help?" Blue eyes focused on his and the reflex kicked in. Yep, he fiddled with his hair again. Jani took extra-long to reply. The driver cleared his throat. "Alright, on your feet." Sav held out his hand.

* * *

Good morning? Jani blinked and found himself looking into Rick's eyes. Behind Rick, he could see that they'd arrived at a hotel. If he'd hoped that Def Leppard would be lodged at the same place as Sonata, Jani's hope didn't come true. Not that he'd expected it. It was pitch black outside and Jani grinned wryly. "I'm sure it's morning somewhere," he quipped.

Rick held out his hand and Jani took it. Once he was standing on his own two feet, he noticed that although he was still feeling a little woozy, the unreal sensation he'd perceived after the doctor had dosed him up was gone. The taxi left and Rick turned them toward the hotel entrance, but Jani stopped him.

"Wait a sec. Could you... Could we forget what I said earlier when we left the hospital?" Jani pleaded. Again, he was glad that he wasn't the blushing type, but it still felt as if his ears were burning. "Unless I only dreamed all that, but," he sighed, "I don't think I'm that lucky, right?"

* * *

Forget...? Oh, yeah, Sav had a pretty good idea that the stoned 'you're pretty' was just a reflection of how high Jani really had been. "Yeah, mate. All's forgotten." Sav cut his eyes to the side. "You were out of it, it's all good." He headed toward the front door, motioning Jani to follow.

* * *


End file.
